to make any alterations they chose.” This mode of reasoning hardly satisfied Anna, and unknown to her mother she took from her own chamber a handsome hearth-rug, and carrying it to her grandmother’s room, laid it before the fireplace. Coming accidentally upon a roll of green paper, she, with the help of Corinda, a black girl, made some shades for the windows, which faced the west, rendering the room intolerably hot during the summer season. Then, at the suggestion of Corinda, she looped back the muslin curtains with some green ribbons, which she had intended using for her “dolly’s dress.” The bare appearance of the table troubled her, but by rummaging, she brought to light a cast-off spread, which, though soiled and worn, was on one side quite handsome. “Now, if we only had something for the mantel,” said she; “it seems so empty.” Corinda thought a moment, then rolling up the whites of her eyes, replied, “Don’t you mind them little pitchers” (meaning vases) “which Master Atherton done gin you? They’d look mighty fine up thar, full of sprigs and posies.” Without hesitating a moment Anna brought the vases, and as she did not know the exact time when her grandmother would arrive, she determined to fill them with fresh flowers every morning. “There, it looks a heap better, don’t it, Carrie?” said she to her sister, who chanced to be passing the door and looked in. “You must be smart,” answered Carrie, “taking so much pains just for them; and as I live, if you haven’t got those elegant vases that Captain Atherton gave you for a birthday present! I know mother won’t like it. I mean to tell her;” and away she ran with the important news. “There, I told you so,” said she, quickly returning. “She says you carry them straight back and let the room alone.” Anna began to cry, saying “the vases were hers, and she should think she might do what she pleased with them.” “What did you go and blab for, you great for shame, you?” exclaimed John Jr., suddenly appearing in the doorway, at the same time giving Carrie a push, which set her to crying, and brought Mrs. Livingstone to the scene of action, “Can’t my vases stay in here? Nobody’ll hurt ’em, and they’ll look so pretty,” said Anna. “Can’t that hateful John behave, and let me alone?” said Carrie. “And can’t Carrie quit sticking her nose in other folks’ business?” chimed in John Jr. “Oh Lordy, what a fuss,” said Corinda, while poor Mrs. Livingstone, half distracted, took refuge under one of her dreadful headaches, and telling her children “to fight their own battles and let her alone,” returned to her room.